


Anathema's blog

by LenaLawlipop



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: It had started out as a joke. No one was supposed to know, and she'd deleted every recognizable trait off of the story, but then, Adam supposed that the idea of two middle aged men arguing about whether tartan was stylish was funny to someone with enough followers, and well... ever since, Anathema had found herself with a small community of people, mostly from London, who had adopted the site as a place to share their own stories of things they had overheard while going about their days.At some point, Anathema had added a different anecdote, and this time, someone had finally connected the bookshop in it with Aziraphale’s own shop, and, as they say, all hell had broken loose.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 113
Collections: Podrama Team Christmas Exchange





	Anathema's blog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnholyCrowley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyCrowley/gifts).



> Happy Christmas! 
> 
> This story was a rollercoaster, and was not supposed to end up being this long, but I got there in the end! I wrote it for UnholyCrowley, for the Christmas exchange we did in CoT, and I hope she likes it! <3

"Well, I didn't start this. And you insist they’re making it all up, so why does it matter so much?"

Adam Young stared at Crowley, one of his unofficial godfathers, without an ounce of hesitation.

It was true, after all. He'd been there when it had all started, years ago, and he knew exactly who was behind it... not that he was going to tell the flustered demon currently demanding answers, though.

"I have nothing to do with it, and I can't control the internet, so I suggest you and Az stop messing with humans where they can see it and potentially tell their online followers," he added, when he realized he was still expecting an answer.

This earned him a groan, and Crowley started muttering to himself, but at least he didn't throw the coffee in his mug to Adam's face. After a moment, he looked back at the teen. He'd taken off his glasses while they were alone, and Adam could see in every anxious line around his eyes that he would very much like to put them back on. He waited.

"Not a word to Aziraphale," Crowley warned him with gritted teeth. Adam shrugged.

"It's not like you guys have visited a lot lately," he answered, reproachingly. The demon almost smiled at that.

"Yes, well..." he waved a hand. "It's easy to lose track of time. We'll try to be more in touch, but you kiddos are better with phones and all that!"

It was easy to get Crowley back onto something familiar, after that. Adam let him rant for a few minutes, including a few digs at Aziraphale for something or another, pretend to drink his coffee and then, at the same time that someone appeared in the garden outside, start to make excuses for leaving. The doorbell rang, timing almost too perfect not to be something they had done a million times. Adam let them get away with it anyway.

He opened the door to Aziraphale, who had been walking around, such a beautiful little town, and had he and Crowley had enough time for that catch up? It was getting late, you see, and they really had to be back in London early, his shop...

Adam did interrupt Aziraphale, though. The man would never stop apologizing otherwise. 'Not a word', Crowley had said. Adam was left to wonder whether Aziraphale truly didn't know about it, but it wasn't his place to ask, he supposed. He opened his arms for a hug instead, and squeezed the angel. He was always warm, and soft, and gave great hugs. Aziraphale hugged him back just as tightly, and inquired after his life, his friends, his family, as he always did. He and Crowley would only leave after Adam reassured them at least twice that they were all doing great, but it was still heart-warming to know how much they both cared, despite having nothing binding them to him anymore.

"Don't be strangers," Adam called, as they walked toward Crowley's car.

He walked back into the building, and sat down with the rest of his coffee, picking up his phone. He navigated to Anathema's blog easily... he'd had it opened on his browser for years now, ever since she first posted online about his very own version of fairy grandparents. It had grown a lot since, though.

It had started out as a joke. No one was supposed to know, and she'd deleted every recognizable trait off of the story, but then, Adam supposed that the idea of two middle aged men arguing about whether tartan was stylish was funny to someone with enough followers, and well... ever since, Anathema had found herself with a small community of people, mostly from London, who had adopted the site as a place to share their own stories of things they had overheard while going about their days.

At some point, Anathema had added a different anecdote, and this time, someone had finally connected the bookshop in it with Aziraphale’s own shop, and, as they say, all hell had broken loose.

Adam found easily the section of the website that was dedicated exclusively to them, to try and guess which had been the one that had finally made Crowley ask him to take it down, and began to read.

#

**Title: What's the opposite of Meet Cute?**

**Posted by: Happyrrh**

Okay, so I think I've found the shop that everyone here is talking about... And here's what I overheard when I went by the other weekend.

I was only just walking in when, as many have mentioned, the warmth of the place hit me. And I don't mean that it was _actually_ warm, in fact, I could have sworn it was slightly colder than outside, despite not having an AC unit anywhere — not that I'm surprised, the place looks as old as it gets!

Still. Has its charm. And it feels... nice.

Not to stray too much from the topic though.

The owner greeted me warmly enough as well, but I have been reading this forum for a while now, I knew what to expect if I ever asked to buy a book. Not wanting to anger him, I simply said I would look around, and lo and behold, he lit up like a Christmas tree... +1 to all of y'all saying he should build a library instead of a shop. But anyway.

He left me to my own devices after that, and I decided to go check out the store. It's not too far from my usual route back home, so I figured, if I liked it, I'd step by more often.

I had been perusing a shelf filled with what looked like every one of my childhood stories, when I overheard it. It was quiet enough at first, so I couldn't make out the words, but after a while, someone, very clearly _not_ the owner, exclaimed:

"I said I'm sssssorry! You know I don't sssssstart the fights! People are just naturally sssssceptic of me." Yes. With the hissing sounds. I swear, it sent a shiver down my spine just hearing it.

"It's the fifth time this week!" the owner replied, just as loudly.

At this point, the other guy started grumbling, and making what sounded like excuses, and I was torn between wanting to hear The Drama TM, or booking it in case the owner got really mad... he does look like the kind of old man who would absolutely make you regret ever angering him. But in the end, my curiosity won out. I wanted a good story for the forum!

The voices led me just around the corner, to almost the back of the shop, where a guy with fiery red hair was sprawled on a sofa, still grumbling. He looked like he'd been in some sort of... fight? That's the best way to describe it, really. There was dirt on his clothes and face, and specks of what I could only assume was blood, though no visible wounds. The owner was fussing over his hands, touching his arms and shoulders, I suppose checking for injuries. I couldn't see his face, or all of him, really, but I recognized him by the old fashioned suit and the ring in his hand. The other guy winced here and there, but relaxed visibly when the exam was over. I think this might be the same redhead that in other stories, because when it was over, he slumped even more on the sofa, and I swear, whatever bone condition that guy has, it just should not be possible to bend your spine that way. That's not what surprised me most, though! After a second, when I was ready to bolt in case they had noticed me or something, redhead guy opens his eyes again, and he has this cute, little smile that I swear is making me blush all the way to where I was looking at them from, behind a bookcase. And then, he looks up, and I couldn't exactly see his eyes from where I was, but I knew he was looking vaguely up, at the owner standing in front of him. And he says:

"Frankly, I am a disaster and you witnessed that the first time we met, angel," he said.

Angel! I swear to you, those were his exact words. He called the owner _angel_. And I'm hiding behind a bookcase, right? Well, at that time, I almost lost it. It was so corny, and cute, and _soft_! From a guy who looked like he would murder you for asking the time, what with all the blood and things!

It was followed by a silence, and a short sigh, before both him and the owner devolved into silly giggles that were my cue to leave, especially when the owner placed a hand on the guy's cheek, clearly more intimate than I had given them credit for. This forum has speculated for a long time, but guys... I think those denying it are just homophobic and need to get out the sticks out of their asses... These two are so cute together I don't think my face returned to its normal color until I was, at least, fifteen minutes away from that shop.

#

**Title: You guys should have warned me about the perma-boner.**

**Posted by: Anonymous**

Okay, so I've been lurking in this forum for a few months now, and I've read all the posts about the owner of the bookshop and his... partner? There are apparently some people doubting it, and I guess since I'm posting on anon I won't get much credibility, but trust me — those two are boning. I don't know if they're together, but holy fuck those two are Fucking.

Anyway. Enough context. Here's my story.

I'm near Soho. I'm bored. I have time to kill. So what do I do? Get a drink, perhaps unwind from a difficult week? No. Silly me, I go looking for a bookshop in a corner with a sign for opening hours that's just as silly as some posts in this forum, right? Right. And I find it. It's not even hiding or anything, some of y'all seem to think there's some weird magic going on, but trust me, the only magic in that place was the stupidly hot chemistry the owner and whoever his partner is, have going on.

They were already fighting when I got there. This is another recurring element that people talk about here, they seem to fight a lot. And honestly? If I got make up sex like those two likely get after every fight, I would fucking fight my partner all day, everyday. But anyway. The argument seemed pretty serious at first, actually. There were accusations being thrown, but the first one I heard just as I opened the door, that was the loudest and clearest.

"You were hiding from me, I know it! You can't even look me in the eye when you deny the fact you were. What did I do?"

It started off angry, but by the time it finished, the voice was almost pleading. I don't know exactly how I knew this, but I guess I've been reading this forum for too long, because I knew immediately that was not the owner's voice. It was... It wasn't sibilant, like a few of you have said, but it was... lower pitched. Smooth. I heard that voice, and I wanted to see the person attached to it, in a strange way.

I wasn't sure if I was welcome in the shop at that point, of course. The sign had said open, and the door hadn't been locked, so clearly they knew people could come in. Still... There was no one else around, and no one came out to greet me, so I walked a few steps inside, into the maze of bookshelves. The voices got quieter, or louder, but there were a few excuses being made, and it wasn't until I turned a corner that I found them.

It was a section full of old tomes, many of them neatly labelled as Bibles. The owner was shelving some more books while the other guy, the famous redhead, paced around, ranting about whatever it was the owner had done.

They have names. I'm on anon so it would be really hypocritical of me to give you their names, plus, we're already intruding in their personal life. But trust me, they have names. Still. The owner was persistently pet-named angel, so Angel it is. The other guy... well. He's a redhead, and I don't want to start confusing the lore in this forum. So suffice to say, Angel and Redhead were arguing, and I was rooted to the spot, already somewhat on edge as I watched Redhead pace around. I swear, he's hypnotic. Someone said a while back it shouldn't be possible to bend a spine the way he does. I want to talk about his hips. I'm comfortable with my sexuality, I am! But this dude... There's something to him that really does it for me, I suppose. Which is a shame, because like I said, these two are totally boning.

I know it, because after a while, a point by which I had the common sense to hide behind a bookshelf, I heard another set of footsteps, and suddenly, a thump, like someone hitting the shelf I was behind. I probably jumped. Redhead hissed, and for a moment I wondered if he was hurt, but then he spoke.

"Not in this section, angel. If you're aiming to distract me, not in this sect— ah!"

I swear to anything. If God can watch them through the Bibles, well... God probably got an eyeful. He knows the sounds alone were more than enough to send me home with a boner, and more than enough material for my fantasies for weeks to come (yes. Pun intended.)

I did catch a glimpse of them walking out of the religious section, in case you're worried. I don't think they saw me, they were... busy. The owner was talking, something about how Redhead spirals every time he wants to surprise him with something, and that this is going too far... I wasn't listening too much, and I'm not sure Redhead was either. The door to the back of the shop closed loudly, followed by another thump. This time I was very sure that Redhead had been once more pushed into the surface, and if nothing else, his following moans were more than enough to corroborate my suspicions.

Like I said.

You guys should have warned me they were both so handsome. Though... At least I found a way to unwind that evening, after all.

#

**Title: These two are messing with us, guys**

**Posted by: Ratattoos**

I mean. They have to be, right?

Still. Let me get right to the point. I've been to the shop multiple times, and this is what I heard the other day, while perusing the shelves as I usually do.

"How do you unknowingly get yourself tangled up into a cult?"

Guys, the owner's partner wasn't laughing, at least not yet, but I desperately had to stop myself from wheezing. _Who_ asks that?

Then again, it lends credibility to some of the stories in here.

The owner (whose name isn't really a secret, why is nobody using it? He's Fell, it's in the name of the shop!), Fell, wasn't laughing either.

They were both at the till, this time. Most people seem to catch them talking about this kind of wacky stuff way back into the shop, where less people might overhear them... though, to be fair, I'm not sure they have such a place anymore, not with the way this forum is trying to pin them down. But anyway, privacy issues aside... The owner was in a _cult_? I looked up from the book I was reading a bit too quick, perhaps, but they didn't notice me. He was fidgeting, playing with his stationary, fiddling with pages in books... definitely cagey. He shrugged.

"Oh, [his partner’s name, though in this case I do agree with keeping it secret], I don't know!," he replied. "They were really nice, and we were talking, and... One thing led to another!"

I would have cackled, were it not for the fact that the redhead was already doing that, and by the looks of it, had little to no sympathy for his partner's plight. He did, however, attempt some seriousness when he next spoke.

"So... how are you going to get out? It's not like you need more of those in your life, angel. We've talked about this."

It was said... almost playfully. I swear, if my person, whenever I find them, isn't able to talk this softly to me, they're not the one. It filled my heart to hear it, I can't explain exactly what it was... Perhaps the way he'd just accepted what was clearly an excuse — no one _just_ walks into a cult, right?. Perhaps just that they've talked about _cults_ before, and clearly he knows his partner has had trouble with them before... I mean, that's a pretty deep topic to get into with one's partner, right? I think?

Guys, I don't know... It was just really sweet. Redhead was clearly teasing him, but he was also so... comforting. So accepting. I know a lot of you say that he gives off a bad boy vibe, and often I agree, but he has these moments where I swear you can see the good in him, which I can only imagine is what the owner sees in him.

And, well, yes. He's hot too. Looking at you, perma-boner anon.

Anyway. I hope the owner managed to get out of that mess, but I'm not too worried. I'm sure his partner was there for him, every step of the way.

I went home that night feeling a little lighter than before, and honestly? I'll take my serotonin from wherever I can get it.

#

**Title: Please yeet me into the Sun.**

**Posted by: Admyrrhistrator**

I mean it. I have already perished and my soul has already ascended, so just. Yeet me into the nearest star and let today be the last day of my existence. I've never been this happy, I'm almost worried that my therapist will have to adjust my prescription _again_.

And yes, if you're wondering, yes, this is another story about the Soho Bookshop Guys. Fell and his partner. Holy shit they're adorable. I was warned, but not warned enough. If you're considering going, take my advice, it might leave you feeling soft and happy for days on end, whenever you think about what you've seen.

(Or with a perma-boner, if you swing that way. Sorry, anon. You've become a meme now.)

Anyway, so. I haven't gone by as many times as others in this forum. I had already met Mr. Fell, of course, he's the owner. But I hadn't run into Redhead yet, and I was sort of hoping I would. I mean... tomorrow is Valentine's day, right? I was sort of hoping I would catch something. I wasn't the only one there, but we still don't have a code to ask if we're on the forum, like the tumblr people do with their shoelaces. We should find something. And please don't suggest the perma-boner. It's a good meme, but I'm not asking someone if they've got a boner.

Back to the story, anyway.

So, I have seen a lot of people mention the backroom, and how they seem to always retreat there whenever they're having one of their conversations. I would have expected them to do the same today, so I had been lurking around the back of the shop, but it was pretty clear soon that they weren't there. So I moved toward the windows, and sure enough, in one of the comfy armchairs was Redhead. Fell wasn't there, though, not at first.

Redhead was lost in his thoughts, it seemed, because he failed to notice me walking by, picking up a book and sitting quite a few meters away... I picked a corner from where he would see me, so I wasn't spying, right? But he didn't look over to me, so I don't know if he noticed me at all. He was just... looking out of the window.

The book I'd picked was interesting enough, and I knew from experience that the owner would never let me buy it, and that it might have been moved to a different shelf by the time I next came by, so I decided to sit there for a while. If anything was going to happen, well, Redhead was right there, so I didn't have to worry about it.

The bookshop is always warm, and cozy, and I've always been the kind of person who enjoys the scent of old books, so it didn't take long for me to get completely lost in the story, and, I'll admit it, fall asleep. I don't think it was for very long, because there was still enough light outside when I woke up. The sunset was not the best, but it's February, so... At least it wasn't pouring.

Fell had, at some point, walked by. I knew, because I could hear voices around me, and I recognized his by now. They were talking to one another, something about the sky, and the stars. Perhaps that's when I realized it wasn't raining. They were talking about them by name, as if they had studied astronomy or something, and I was still half asleep. What caught my attention, however, wasn't that conversation exactly. It was... well, Redhead sounded sort of sad.

I opened my eyes fully to look over and found them cuddled together on the sofa. Fell was sitting mostly on the arm of the sofa, but he was leaning so much on Redhead that, well... they looked pretty cozy and cute. What really made my heart fucking explode, though, was the exchange that took place approximately ten minutes after I'd woken up.

They had been talking about stars all the time, and they'd completely lost me by then. Redhead in particular had been ranting about them, names that I didn't recognize, strings of numbers, and letters, and data about what the astronomers knew, and how much of a joke he thought it all was. I couldn't exactly tell if he _trusted_ astronomers or not, but that's not really the point. What is the point, is that he eventually trailed off, and when I looked over, he seemed to have gotten stuck staring at Fell's eyes. Which, cute enough, right? Well.

Fell reached over to run his fingers through his hair, and asked him a question that must have been some variant of 'Are you alright?', because Redhead nodded a bit too quickly, before wincing and shrugging.

"Still thinking of moving to a star, dear?" Fell asked then, which gave me strong 'this-is-a-metaphor-for-mental-health-things', but then again, I might just be projecting.

"Nah..." answered Redhead, raising a hand to also touch Fell's hair.

There was silence for a moment, and I wondered if any of them had realized I was there, and that I was awake now. It didn't seem so, because after a few seconds, Redhead continued.

"If you could get to anywhere in the universe by tomorrow, where would you go?" he asked, almost too quiet for me to hear. I know this is what he asked, though, because the answer left me so flustered I had to cover my face with the book in my hands, at risk of blushing too brightly.

"Hmm... Where are you going to be tomorrow?"

I swear to everything, Fell is too smooth for this world. And his partner too, because without missing a beat, he replied:

"Well... I was hoping to be on a date with you. Valentine's, and all..."

I had to look from under the book then, make sure my ears weren't playing tricks on me, but no, there they still were, looking at each other like they were the best thing in the world! Fell was blushing nearly as much as me, all pleased and flustered, and then they honest to goodness truth _kissed_... If you're wondering. Yes, I did squeak at that. No, they still didn't hear me. Yes, I fled the scene.

There's only so much cuteness I can stand on a normal Friday evening, and that was about enough for me... I still haven't even had time to feel jealous that Fell gets to go on a date, despite wearing clothes from a century ago, and I can't find someone despite _knowing_ that I look good.

Guess looks can't beat good ol' love, though...

#

**Title: I swear I’m not on drugs.**

**Posted by: Anonymous**

Not to be a creepo on main, but I'm at least 90% sure that Fell and his emo boyfriend are like. Not human.

I know, I know. A lot of people here like to gossip about their relationship and whatnot. I get it, they're cute or whatever. But I have a more interesting story, and yes, I'm going on anon because none of y'all are going to believe me, so I'd rather save myself some disrespectful messages.

So I was there... last week? It was a Thursday, that I remember, so it must have been last week. I work odd hours, and I had some time then, so I popped by. I know most people here tend to ignore the owner's antics about his books, but I like sometimes trying to get to him, and ask about prices. It's kind of funny to hear the excuses he makes up, often forgetting that I have been there before... but that's beside the point.

Or maybe just further confirmation that the guy isn't human, but I think we're all entitled to having piss poor memory, human or not.

So the thing was, that I got there really late, right? Like, really, really late. This guy keeps odd hours too, though, so I wasn't _too_ surprised to see that the shop was open. I went in.

It was quiet, for the most part. I must have been the only one there, which... doesn't do much for credibility on my story, but I swear all of this is true. I was a little tired, but I did not imagine this, and I most certainly was not on any kind of drug. Hell, not even caffeine!

So I walk in, everything is quiet, but the lights are on, just as warm as always. Nothing gives off a weird vibe, or anything. So imagine my surprise when I turn a corner, expecting perhaps to find the eccentric Mr. Fell shelving some books, and instead find... a huge snake. Not any snake, either. It was a huge, _black_... snake. Yes, a snake. Get your mind out of the gutter guys. This is only the beginning of the weirdness.

The snake itself was enough to make me stop dead in my tracks, of course, because like I said I wasn't imagining any of this! But as I did, I realized it wasn't even looking at me. It only had eyes for whatever was on the other side of that particular corridor...

The humming could only belong to Mr. Fell, who was, in my eyes, about to be gobbled up by a giant black snake, for dinner. And I couldn't move, I was terrified! The snake either didn't see me or didn't care, because it started slithering on the floor, and propping itself on the shelves to climb around Mr. Fell, startling him. The weirdest sound came out of him, freezing the animal in its tracks. And then... I swear to God, and Jesus, and the Holy Trinity, the animal _said_ :

"Did you just hiss at me?"

And Mr. Fell _giggled_! He just stood there, booped the giant nose of the giant, talking snake, and giggled! I was still trembling upon the sight of it, and he just... touched it! And hissed at it, apparently!

Guys, I'm still a bit in shock, and this might not be the most coherent post, but I swear it's the truth.

Mr. Fell gently removed the snake from a shelf to put a book behind it, and answered:

"What, you thought you were the only one who could sssssssswitch your tongue?"

Guys. He was hissing. I fucking swear, the man was hissing, and seconds after, he stuck out his tongue and it was long, and thin, like a serpent's. The huge snake stuck out his tongue also, and touched it to Fell's, and... and I think I screamed... Whatever it was, it startled them, and I stumbled with my own feet when trying to run away. I fell to the floor pretty hard, I think, though I don't exactly remember that part.

What I do remember, is waking up in a plush armchair a couple of minutes later, to see Mr. Fell and his boyfriend looking at me worriedly. I think I screamed again, but they were both very sweet. Their tongues were perfectly human, and they offered to call an ambulance for me. Mr. Fell even went as far as to check my head for injuries, but the longer I spent awake, the better I felt, so I... well, I'm not proud to say it, but I ran away, pretty much. I hope they weren't offended. I don't know where the snake went in the time I was knocked out, and I don't know if Mr. Fell still has the ability to turn his tongue into a snake's tongue, but... I don't think I'll be going back. I haven't been religious for a long time, nor do I believe in demons and monsters… but even so, I don't like the idea that a giant black snake might try to flick its tongue at me.

So... if you're going there? Be warned.

#

**Title: On today's breaking news: Mr. Fell can swear.**

**Posted by: Maria**

"They're not your kids, back the fuck off."

If you had told me I would be hearing Mr. Fell say these words, ever, at all, I wouldn't have believed you. He's too nice of an old man, I would have said! He doesn't have it in him to swear like that. I know some people in this forum have the misguided impression that he's some kind of supernatural snake whisperer, but... I mean, come on.

I would have probably expected that vocabulary from his boyfriend, the redhead who is too skinny for his own good, but not from Mr. Fell! Still, let me tell you why I allowed it on this occasion.

You see, it was being an unreasonably hot day for March. I had just picked the kids up from school, and I hadn't brought the car, thinking it might not rain, and of course, this bloody country's weather absolutely ruined my plans!

We had ducked into a few shops, walking whenever the rain wasn't too bad, and we ended up stopping at his place. Mr. Fell, the owner, is a very faithful man, and I had always respected him greatly, so I wasn't afraid to bring the kids inside for a few minutes. I was sure he would understand, what with the rain, and everything... With one look at me, he simply told the children to stay away from the books, and having known him for a while now, I knew this wasn't personal... he simply won't let anybody get near them! A bit OCD if you ask me, but he's just such a sweet and devout man..

Everything was fine for a while. Mr. Fell had to leave, so he instructed a redhead to keep an eye on the till — and yes, I know everyone here seems to think they're together, but come on! They're just good friends... People these days, so quick to judge others and fit them in tight little boxes. Can't two grown men be friends!

Anyway, the man stayed behind, eyeing me and the children warily, but otherwise quiet. The only sounds around us were the creaky floorboards from wherever Mr. Fell was, and the rain pouring outside.

A couple of people came and went, but it was around the time that I started thinking we'd overstayed our welcome that a guy came in, reeking of alcohol. I knew to gather my youngest closer to me, but my oldest kid, my dear daughter, and my second oldest, my sweet boy, had strayed into the shelves when the redhead wasn't looking, and were reading a book a few shelves away. The drunkard was quick to walk up to them and start talking, and I didn't like that one bit!

It was clear that my kids didn't like talking to this disgrace of a man, and I wasn't about to allow it, so I picked up my youngest in my arms and I walked up to them to tell him off, when I heard other steps. A hand shot out to stop him from grabbing my daughter's arm, and when I looked, Mr. Fell was there! Everyone was surprised to see him, after all, he hadn't been here a second before. But he must have been behind the shelf, or something, because he clearly knew what was going on. And that's when he said it!

"They're not your kids, back the fuck off."

I think we were all a little stunned to hear him speak like that, so angrily for a man normally so pleasant, so discreet! But the drunkard started arguing, and I was very glad indeed that Mr. Fell was there to hold him back while I urged my children to get out of there.

He sent me a glance with a smile, and assured me he would take care of things, and that I should get home, and wasn't the weather crazy today?

I think I obeyed mostly out of shock, really. On any other occasion I would have argued that this wasn't acceptable, who lets these kinds of people in their store! They're dangerous, and my kids could have been seriously injured... It made me wonder who the manager was in this shop. Was Mr. Fell really the owner? In that case, he had a lot to learn about keeping customers safe! Or if he had a superior... who would it be?

None of that seemed to matter at the time, though, busy as I was trying to get all the kids out of there. The weather _was_ indeed crazy, I thought as I strapped the toddler to his chair and gathered the other two close so we could go outside.

It was sunny again.

#

**Title: Be an indie author, they said.**

**Posted by: Marina_writes**

Everybody knows that being an indie author is difficult, I'm not trying to write a woe-is-me kind of post. We all have our difficulties when it comes to getting the words out, not to mention getting our books out in the world... Doing so without the support of a publishing house is simply a lot of added worries about many, many things.

Anyway, that's now what I'm here to talk about. Quite the opposite, in fact! This is the forum for the bookshop in Soho, A.Z. Fell & Co? I think it is, though it's mostly anecdotes and what looks like a really active imagination from some of the users. That's fine, I'm just here to add my little two cents, and practice my writing, in case being an indie author goes south and I need to start writing articles, or blog entries, or something...

I had gone there to leave some copies of my latest book, which you can find here, and ask if this bookshop did signing events, in preparation for my upcoming book, which is up for preorders! I'd been visiting a few bookshops that day, so it was simply the next one in my radar. What I hadn't been expecting was to find a fan! I'm early in my writing career, and I only have two books out so far. I've been on top of my game when it comes to my own PR, but I didn't think it would have reached this kind of bookshop! It looks more like the kind of place where antique books are meticulously cleaned from all the dust they have collected through the years. However, this was not the case, after all!

When I first arrived, the first thing I saw was a shock of red hair, and the most unimpressed look I have ever received from the guy behind the till. He was wearing sunglasses even inside the shop, and looked bored out of his mind. When I told him I would like to talk to the person in charge, and that I was an author, he didn’t even cover his mouth to yawn before calling out for "Angel".

The man that came out introduced himself as Mr. Fell, so... I'm still a little confused there. Is the 'They're gay, Harold' meme applicable here? Well, it doesn't matter. The thing is that this guy comes out of the backroom of the shop, and I swear, he looks so ridiculously charming in his old fashioned clothes! I mean, they must be some sort of uniform he wears to work, there's no way people actually still dress that way... but in any case, he blended in with the shop, is what I'm saying.

He was affable, and very, very polite... At least, until I introduced myself. He gasped, and for a moment, I worried that he had heard something bad about me... but he simply pouted a little, and pointed at me with a finger.

"Look, I am familiar with what kind of writer you are and if you do anything to my favorite character, I am never speaking to you again. Are we clear?" he said to me. He looked serious, but there was a teasing glint in his eye that told me he was messing with me.

I had never been so delighted!

After laughing, and promising him that I would stay true to the story no matter who his favorite character was, he seemed to relax. His smile was still extremely polite, but there was some sort of camaraderie there, and I genuinely enjoyed talking to him about what we possibly could organize so people would come see my book launch, and when it would be best to do it. We exchanged phone numbers, and he assured me that he listened to all his voicemails, in case I didn't manage to reach him, and that he would return the call in that case.

It left me feeling so warm, and fuzzy!

The redhead who had been at the till was nowhere to be seen, and I didn't realize that he was most likely just an acquaintance of Mr. Fell, not an actual employee. Makes me wonder even more about 'angel', but it's none of my business, of course. Anyway.

I've seen a few posts now that warn the readers against various things... So I guess I'll warn you that, apparently, Mr. Fell is a great magician... I never noticed when he touched my bag, but I arrived home with a copy of a Wilde poem collection! It wasn't an old edition or anything, and it seems like just a small detail, but it's dedicated to me by Mr. Fell, and I quote, "in hopes that [his favorite character] won't meet the same end as Mr. Wilde. Once was bad enough. A. Fell."

I'm not sure what exactly the last sentence means, but isn't he just... neat?

I feel like I'm going to start spending a lot of time in this forum...

#

**Title: Mirror, mirror on the wall.**

**Posted by: PinkMakeUp**

I know. Creative title. Well, sue me. I'm mostly here for the gossip, after all. We all have our vices, okay?

I went back to the Soho shop today.

The owner and his boyfriend know me, I think at this point they find me amusing... but on occasion, they will humor my questions about the occult, and they'll get this look, like they're in on a joke I don't get. I don't mind... Mr. Fell is very knowledgeable, but even some things escape his comprehension. It's only to be expected, too, since he's very, very religious. I'm almost surprised someone like him would even tolerate my talking about the occult forces of the universe.

I get the strange feeling that they're just humoring me, sometimes, despite them never laughing at me, but it's nice to have someone who will listen, right? Not to get too real, but I don't exactly get that at home, so... yeah. I spend a lot of time in the Soho bookshop, talking to Mr. Fell. I'm trying to work up the courage to ask his given name, I mean, Fell is just his surname, right? Says so on the plaque outside... It's such a strange surname, but considering he’s religious, I have to wonder what his given name might be...

Anyway. Mr. Fell was there today, too. He asked me if I had more questions about Ley Lines, the sweet man! He had this adorable frown in his face, like he was worried he was misremembering the name, too. Ugh, he's precious. A gift to this world, trust me. But no, that wasn't the reason why I was there. I had something to show them.

I'd recently acquired an enchanted mirror. I know, I know, it sounds fake to me too. But I swear it works. It shows you your greatest fear, and I'm not going to tell you what it showed me, but it's... true. It's true.

Mr. Fell's boyfriend saw it too, I think. When I showed it to him. He gasped, and his eyes got huge, and for a moment, I thought Mr. Fell was going to shove me away. But his boyfriend put a hand on the mirror to turn it to the side, and looked at me very sternly. Asked me where I got it, and whether I wanted help getting rid of it. It scared me, the intensity of his voice then. He's usually the more laid back of the two! But he clearly wasn't joking.

Mr. Fell, however, didn't seem affected by the mirror. Not at first. He took it, after hearing his boyfriend say that, and looked at it directly, but he didn't gasp, he didn't cry out... he merely frowned in confusion.

"I don't see anything odd," he said after a moment. His boyfriend sighed, brushing his hair out of his face.

"The mirror is said to reflect your fears," I told him, "and yet you claim to see nothing. How interesting that you don't consider the possibility of being scared of yourself," I prompted.

It was perhaps something I shouldn't have said, I know. All it took was for his boyfriend to step in closer for Mr. Fell to give a strangled cry, and I wondered if his biggest fear played with that. His boyfriend's eyes were sad, but I knew they were both looking at horrible things of their own.

"You're not in the mirror," he murmured, after a second. His boyfriend startled and passed an arm around him.

"I'm here, angel."

"Yes, but you're not in the mirror," he insisted.

"It won't help, but you should know that you definitely are in mine."

That was a bit of a mystery, but I didn't feel it was my place to ask, so I'm merely relaying the conversation. Whatever that meant, it snapped Mr. Fell out of his terror, and he looked at his boyfriend for a long time. I sat there, too transfixed to look away. They both looked like they were saying a million things to each other, but for a few, long minutes, nobody spoke.

"I didn't know," Mr. Fell said after a while.

"You even took that name, Fell," his boyfriend laughed, shook his head. "Ironic, I suppose."

"But I'm not, and you're here," Mr. Fell settled after a moment of hesitation. He looked back at the mirror. "Are you quite alright, dear girl? It can't be easy, having this kind of object around for long."

Mr. Fell was the first person to ever use my correct pronouns, and I am not above getting teary eyed when he calls me 'dear girl', something he does often, without prompting. I think he just calls everyone 'dear', though. I nodded.

I told them what I saw. Like I said, I won't go into details, but... the mirror was indeed enchanted, and I had noticed that from the very beginning. The me in the reflection was too thin, so thin even I would have told her it wasn't healthy. The me in the reflection was... not me. The me in the reflection had the wrong haircut, and the wrong clothes, and had clearly not moved out of my parents' house.

It was a wake up call, though, I told them. I wasn't sure if I was going to keep it, but... It had helped me start looking for a job again, in hopes of moving out soon. I'd cut my hair just before going to the shop, and they both lit up like a Christmas tree, oohing and aahing at it in turns.

Mr. Fell offered to store the mirror for me. Not in the shop, of course, civilians aren't supposed to be exposed to occult objects like that. But in the back of the shop. I could come in anytime I needed another wake up call, and he would be there with me, so I would be safe around the mirror.

Since one never knows when an occult object has horrible intentions for you, I agreed immediately. Besides, I was already slightly paranoid that my father would find it.

Don't go to the shop asking for it, I implore you. I need to share this story, but don't ask for it. I don't think Mr. Fell would show it to you, but he might not let me come back, and right now, I need all the emotional support I can get, even if it's from someone as unexpected as an old, quirky bookseller, who is both extremely religious and has an eye for things of the occult.

So yeah. That is my story.

#

**Title: The world needs answers.**

**Posted by: Coconootnoot**

I know some people here have very profound stories about how much this shop means to them. I mean no offense by this, but I just find the owner hilarious. He's a walking contradiction, I mean, have you seen his opening hours? I have half a mind to set up a section in this forum so people who have just walked by can let us know if it's open at any given time, because I live rather far from the bookshop, and I've only managed to catch it open during normal business hours like twice.

Certainly, last night was not normal business hours. I had been drinking with some friends, but I'd only had a pint before one of my friends had to rush back home, something about his mother having had an accident and being in the hospital. Terrible stuff, and it killed the mood for all of us, so we all decided to go home. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling great when I walked out into the street.

Everyone in Soho was still awake, apparently, and I had time to kill since I hadn't stayed as late as I thought I would, so I decided to walk by the bookshop. It would give me time to clear my head before going home, at the very least.

I got there, and the lights were on, so I pushed the door in. The bells chimed, as always, and the warmth and book smell hit me all at once. I think I've heard other people describe it as such before, but this bookshop is, truly, a hug in place form. You go in, immediate hug from the bookshop. But anyway, strange descriptions aside, let me tell you what I found there.

The owner was sitting at the till, talking to a redhead who must be that boyfriend that you guys keep talking about, though this is the first time I've seen him. The redhead was pacing around, in hysterics. The owner, who looked very much put upon, simply looked up at me, nodded politely, and went back to his conversation.

We all know Mr. Fell doesn't want to sell a single book, and it's anyone's guess how he actually makes money, so that didn't surprise me.

What did surprise me, and nearly made me snort out loud, was what he said next. He _was_ sitting near a pile of books, taller than him... hell, taller than his redhead boyfriend, too. I had assumed he was... cataloguing them, or whatever it is you do with books. Anyway, he turned to his boyfriend, and said, in a bewildered voice:

"I swear I only went for one book!" to which his boyfriend cackled, nearly in tears. It didn't seem to annoy him, not really. "This is most definitely not 'one'," he admitted easily.

It sounded as though he hadn't realized he'd bought his height in books, and I was slightly vindicated by the fact that his boyfriend seemed unable to stop laughing at him. I didn't laugh out loud! I know I'm the stranger there. But I mean, come on.

Who buys that many books! He doesn't even sell them again, how does this guy make money?! Yeah, he's hilarious, and he's super nice, and his shop feels like entering the physical representation of a hug, but, like. What _does_ he do? Is he a drug dealer or something???? The world do be needing answers tho.

#

**Title: Karma**

**Posted by: MrKinkcredible**

Remember that post by someone who discovered Mr. Fell could swear? I'm proud to announce I never even doubted him, and that I'm here with more news on that topic!

So, I live super close to the shop, but that's not where this story takes place. No. I was — get ready — I was at the cinema.

And you're going to say, Mr. Kink, you're pulling my leg, Mr. Fell just does Not Fit In with the cinema crowd. And you would be correct! He does not :'D But he was there, and so was the boyfriend, and I didn't get to say hello because they were too many rows away from me.

I don't have a lot of time to post this, so I'll just come out and say it: there was this annoying dude who kept talking the entire time through the movie. He was exactly in front of Mr. Fell and his boyfriend, and hooooooly crap, I was dying of anticipation. I have seen Mr. Fell deliver one-liners that could kill the undead, and I _knew_ he would not disappoint, but what he ended up doing was so much better!!

It was perhaps halfway through the movie. The guy had received quite a few complaints from his neighbors, but when he started laughing at something on his phone during one of the mystery scenes, I shit you not, Mr. Fell picked up his cup of soda — at least I imagine that's what it was, though I was too far away to see that — and fucking _poured the entire contents on the man's head_.

Yep. He did that. The hero we didn't know we fucking needed.

Most people laughed, some even clapped. The man who had been talking complained for a bit, but when he turned around to look at Fell and his boyfriend, whatever they said must have shut him up real quick, because he turned back around and kept quiet the entire movie. The only noise that disturbed us during the rest of it was the occasional giggle from Fell's partner, and honestly, I couldn't blame him.

I took a look as I went out of the room, by the way. Whatever Fell had done, he'd managed to completely soak that idiot without so much as a drop falling on the seat. Some of the soda had pooled on the floor in front of the guy, but that seemed easy enough to clean, and I think I saw him talking to the cleaning crew as he left.

I did manage to catch the boyfriend's eye, though, before I left. He had his eyeglasses on, if he hadn't waved at me, I wouldn't have known he saw me. I waved back, and on an impulse, I remember calling out to him, while pointing at Fell, and telling him to "keep him".

It made him laugh so much that I'm still counting it as a life achievement.

#

**Title: Right moment, right place?**

**Posted by: Lanniester**

I’ve just got married to the love of my life. I promise this is related to the story, I haven't posted in the wrong forum.

The thing is, most of my family, and my fiancé's family, expected me to turn into a bridezilla as soon as the planning began. I think I've managed to stay calm though! But there has been one thing that _did_ kind of bother me.

It was the reception place.

Most specifically, the date.

On the day we had planned to hold our ceremony, we wanted to have a reservation for the Ritz. We're not low on money, and it's our big day, something we've been dreaming of for years! So of course we wanted the very best possible.

Yet, when we called, we were told there was another anniversary being celebrated, and that we would have to change either the day, the hour, or the location. They offered us a few other diners within their chain, and we ended up changing location, but that's beside the point. What I wanted to know was who had taken our dream restaurant from us on our special day! I mean, what were the odds?!

I want to emphasize, I'm not a bridezilla. I have been very chill about most of this process, but something about this particular detail bothered me. So I went to check out this other couple after my own reception, after changing into a smaller dress, and all that. My own guests were all leaving, my family was helping us collect our things and gifts, and I had a few minutes to roam the place and "accidentally" stumble into a different dining hall.

The one we had wanted, one of the smaller but cozier ones.

There was music inside, and when I peered in, only about a dozen people were there, or less. You won't believe, however, _who_ was there, celebrating their anniversary.

The noise I made was probably what tipped them off, but to be fair, I was also standing in the doorframe, gaping. I think Boyfriend recognized me first, but Mr. Fell also broke into a pleasant smile right after. They greeted me by my name and walked over to ask why I was around. I was forced to awkwardly answer that my own wedding reception had just taken place, and they both started _congratulating_ me, like I hadn't just run into their own private celebration on a flight of fancy!

Guys, I really felt like a piece of garbage. I hadn't meant to crash their party or anything, but I had been feeling so resentful, and...! I didn't even know they were _married_! I'm not proud of this, but I did break down crying, to my deepest shame. I tried to get out of there before I couldn't stop the tears, but I think they noticed it, because they stopped me. Mr. Fell pulled me into a hug... guys, he gives _the best_ hugs. He was so nice, and it was almost like he knew how I felt, without me saying anything! He just held me for a little bit, and when he let me go, his partner (whom I guess we can start calling the Husband, instead of the Boyfriend!) patted my shoulders as well. They reassured me it was all fine, and then they let me go when I insisted again that I really ought to let them celebrate their anniversary.

I did ask how long they had been together, though. They laughed. They looked at each other, and for a moment I was sure they were going to say something like a few years, possibly only one. They had this glint in their eyes, like it was still new and fantastical... But they both simply shrugged.

"Sometimes it feels like it's been around six thousand years," Mr. Fell settled. His partner just smiled, and gods, that was the smile of someone totally smitten!

I didn't want to be pushy after having crashed their celebration and having cried on them, so I just left.

But guys. Guys, they're married, they're adorable, and I'm still having post-incident anxiety. I hope I manage to make my way back to the bookshop soon after my honeymoon, and apologize again...

Maybe I could bake them something, as an apology? Does anyone know if they like anything in particular? I think I read somewhere in here that Mr. Fell has a massive sweet tooth, so... maybe an apple pie or something...?

Let me know what you guys think!

#

**Title: Pray for me, please.**

**Posted by: Anonymous**

I know we all had a giggle at the Perma-boner guy, and we also decided that Talking-Snake guy was on drugs, but... Here I am, adding to the Anon content in this forum. Bear with me for a second.

So you know that massive storm a few weeks ago? (Yes, I've been debating whether or not I wanted to post this for a while). Well, someone had crashed somewhere on the M25, and there was a _ton_ of traffic, on top of the storm. It was dark as night, despite it being only six pm, and it was seriously raining cats and dogs, so normally, you wouldn't see much out of your window. But trust me, I saw this.

I was next to the Bentley. We've all seen it, we know which Bentley we're talking about. It's fastidiously noticeable, it's fucking ominous. You turn around and see that thing, and if you aren't at least a little startled by how black and perfectly vintage it is, then... I don't believe you. It's almost like the car itself is looking into your soul, and I have never liked it, past the fact that I can appreciate how well kept it is. I mean, Boyfriend (or, have we officially adopted Husband as his new name yet?) has to dish out a lot of money to service a car that old...

But in any case. I was stuck in traffic. Next to the Bentley. The same Bentley that gives me chills every time I look at it, and not the fun kind of chills. That Bentley.

I was hyper aware of it, even if I didn't quite get to see who was in the car at first. I only realized that Mr. Fell was there as a passenger a few miles into our slow descent into madness, moving a few inches every other minute or so. The rain had slowed down just enough to make the windows usable again, and my windscreen wiper was now beating about at a more normal pace. And that's when I saw them.

They were talking normally at first, or perhaps they were arguing, it doesn't matter. I didn't think much of it. If it hadn't been raining, I would have considered opening my window, and striking a conversation, but like I said, the weather was piss poor, the car gives me the heeby jeebies, and they were already talking to one another.

At least, they were until Boyfriend pulled Mr. Fell in for a kiss, and I hurriedly looked away. I wasn't there to spy on them! But... We were all trapped in that traffic jam, and I was literally trapped in my seat, furiously trying not to look over as I saw more movement out of my peripheral vision.

I'm not saying they fucked in the Bentley. I'm almost certain that would have actually attracted more attention than their activities already did (aka me). But when I realized they weren't moving as much anymore, and I looked over, I realized the reason was that Mr. Fell was nowhere to be seen, and Boyfriend was leaning back on his seat, a hand on the wheel, and the other... well. On his lap. Or...

Well. I'll just say it. He was getting road head, and he was having a lot of fun with it.

I'm already going to hell for this, so I might as well tell you that he also _saw me_. He saw me looking. I was _mortified_ , but the guy just laughed it off! I still don't really know what happened, to be honest. One second we locked eyes, and the next, he sort of... winked? The rain picked up immediately after and the window had too many droplets to see anything... and I didn't want to see anything else anyway, so, there. I don't know what happened, or if Mr. Fell saw me as well.

All I know is what I've told you.

I stayed stuck on that traffic jam for perhaps another half an hour, or maybe forty minutes, but it felt like the longest traffic jam of my entire life. I avoided looking at that car at all costs, but I swear to god, when he passed me as he took his exit before me, Boyfriend _waved_ at me. I wanted to die of embarrassment, and it wasn't even my fault that they were doing that kind of thing in the middle of a traffic jam! I get it, it was raining so much that it's highly unlikely that someone will see you, but _still_!

Ugh. I don't know. Anyway, that's the story. I'm totally going to hell for this, ugh...

#

**Title: Talk to your plants, they do grow better.**

**Posted by: Rose**

So... Now that he's moved out, I think I can safely tell you that Boyfriend was my neighbor for quite a few years.

Yep. I know Boyfriend. He is, in fact, Husband. He's also hot as sin, but y'know. Married and all, not a good look to meddle with that. Not that I think I could have, he has only ever had eyes for Mr. Fell. Yes, he calls him angel. Yes, it's adorable.

But you all already knew this.

What you might not know is that he is just as prone to bouts of poetry as his partner... but in a vastly different way. You see, especially a few years back, I think they might not have been married at the time? I can't be sure, I never noticed the rings appearing, sadly. But anyway, he used to drink a lot more. And whenever he was drunk, he'd talk to himself... or his plants. He had an entire room full of plants, I remember he once showed it to me. He had been helping me carry groceries upstairs, and I mentioned the bunch of garden supplies he was carrying, himself. When he said he had a room full of plants, and I expressed my interest, he showed it to me. He said plants were always good listeners! Ha, I remember it fondly. He was a good neighbor, if a little noisy sometimes... Like I said. He talks to himself, to his plants... very, very occasionally, I could have sworn he talked to God. I never had the impression that he was super religious, but from what I know about his partner, I imagine he is at least at peace with the concept of Christianity?

None of this is the point, sorry. Let me focus.

So, Boyfriend was my neighbor. His plant room was directly under my living room. I confess to often sitting down with a cup of tea just to listen to him rant about something or another. Like I said, he was quite loud sometimes! I do wonder if he could hear me chuckle to myself here and there. He had opinions on everything and anything, and sometimes he got so philosophical that it was difficult to keep track of what he was talking about!

He also did what I can only assume was... poetry of some sort? A lot of it in first person, but the narrator was someone from the past, someone who had lived through historical events that had marked them in some way. He was... an excellent actor. I'm not ashamed to admit he moved me to tears more than once, with some of his soliloquies. I do wonder if his partner knows about it, because I have never read anything of the sort in this forum, so I have to assume that... he doesn't do this when he's at the bookshop?

I mean, that would be understandable. Talking to oneself is frowned upon, I think. I've always personally thought it was lovely, but, well, that's just me. But trust me, if you haven't been kept up by a middle aged man who threatens his plants with stories of the past, and gets over emotional when he's drunk, and can praise his partner for hours on end with a passion that you won't be able to find in your most heartfelt tragedy... well. You're missing out on his charm.

Yes, I know he's hot. I'm not blind. But Husband is just so much more than his looks.

Mr. Fell is a very, very lucky man. And I have an inkling that he knows it.

#

Adam closed the browser, torn between nearly hysteric giggles and the acute embarrassment that comes with reading something you think you shouldn’t have.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the stories, far from that. It was that he actually _believed_ the stories, and he wasn’t sure he had wanted to know what his godfathers got up to when they were alone. Whether they were being spied on by their humans, or willingly putting on a show, Adam didn’t know.

After a moment of hesitation, he called Anathema. She picked up on the fourth ring, breathless.

“Device household,” she said, hurriedly.

“Bad moment?” he asked. She sighed.

“Oh, it’s you... It’s alright, we were just putting out a fire. Newt tried to operate an old radio he’d found in the attic... you know how it is. Anyway, it should be almost under control, I think.”

“Er. Right.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then the absurdity of the situation won, and Anathema huffed when Adam started laughing uncontrollably.

“Have you talked to Aziraphale and Crowley?” he asked her, when he got himself under control. She hummed.

“I did. They seemed under the impression that you had been spreading rumors about him on the web!” she said, and her voice betrayed how proud of herself she was. Adam rolled his eyes. “I take it you didn’t rat me out?”

“Of course I didn’t. But I also hadn’t read the forum for a while... The people in London really need a hobby, huh?”

“Oh, for sure... Nothing you can do against good old free will though!”

He had nothing to argue against _that_. Adam hung up the phone after assuring her that he was no longer going to keep reading her forum, which made her laugh so much she nearly set something else on fire on her side of the line. They both knew he didn’t mean it.

As he scrolled around the forum to kill time, though, he wondered how long it would take Crowley to realize that Aziraphale was, most likely, already aware of all of this. He considered calling the angel, just to confirm his suspicions, when his eyes fell on a comment in the story about the bride.

> **that-blond-bastard** : Apples for an angel? How scandalous. I’m sure Boyfriend will appreciate the irony, dear ;)

Well, then.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [lenalawlipop](https://lenalawlipop.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


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